


People Like Me

by redheadthunderhead



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Adara Shepard, Angst, Gen, Heavy Language, implied Shrios
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:03:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8668618
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redheadthunderhead/pseuds/redheadthunderhead
Summary: "People like me don’t deserve happy endings, and I don’t have one waiting for me now. Maybe I never did."





	

Sometimes Adara wished her instincts would just give up and let her go. She lived long enough, she did enough for the galaxy, which was more than likely screwed no matter how the next hour played out. If she died now, she would not have to worry about it anymore. At one point in her life, she would not have cared about giving in and letting someone else play the hero. But now, now she knew deep down that these were some of her last moments alive. She felt her body shutting down, but she was too damn stubborn to die yet. Not until her job was done.

She stared ahead as she pushed herself forward. Past the piles of bodies and past the unfamiliar shifting walls of the Citadel. Everyone is fucked, she thought, but pressed on. Anderson stopped talking several moments ago and she took that as a bad sign. He was either dead or on his way out. She did not blame him. If he got hit by that damn beam too she could at least say she was feeling the same pain. But he wasn’t dead, she found as she finally reached him, standing with his back turned, body stiff, and Adara instantly felt different. 

“Shepard.”

She did not have a chance to react before she felt her thoughts being invaded. A song in her head. Her mind beginning to feel disconnected from her body, but not in the way Thane would describe it. Or maybe it was. Focus. Her body refused to respond to her, like it was frozen in place, and to her left she saw him. “What the fuck do you want?” 

The Illusive Man was someone she never thought she would see in person. She wanted to, of course, just to rip his head off, but that would have to wait. It took her some time to notice his face. The glowing eyes were a definite distraction, but when her own gaze was directed to the missing patch of skin on the side of his face revealing husk-like wiring underneath, she nearly lost it.

“You never fucking stop, do you? The galaxy is falling apart right in front of us and you’re still trying to use the Reapers for your own selfish gain!” 

She was ignored. The Illusive Man continued walking toward Anderson who was now turned toward her. She tried to read his expression, but it was blank. 

“Say something,” Adara demanded, but the blank stare continued. Indoctrination? Fuck. That would explain how she was feeling. “Anderson. Listen. They’re trying to fuck with your head. Him, the Reapers, I don’t know what the hell is going on. Fight it. We aren’t done yet.

The Illusive Man finally acknowledged her. “You’re right,” he said. “We aren’t done. We can still control the Reapers.” He stood behind Anderson now, right arm hidden, but Adara was smart enough to know what he was hiding.

“They’re controlling you, don’t you see it? They’re controlling all of us!” Adara’s biotics let off an angry blue light, but she knew she was not fast enough in her current state to make any use of them. The static charge in her body was so intense it was becoming painful. She managed to raise her pistol just as Anderson went down to his knees, still seeming to be in a trance. Then a gun was to the back of his head. “Back off,” Adara demanded. “Help me put an end to the damn Reapers or I’ll put a hole in your head. I’m done trying to get you to listen to reason. We’re all dead anyway.” 

She counted down, blocking out both the Reaper influence she was struggling against and The Illusive Man’s ceaseless talking about controlling them. She never cared. Three. Two. One. Fire. And twice more for good measure.

He dropped dead with little fanfare. It was Anderson she worried about when he fell to the ground too, but she had to get the Crucible fired. She regained the full ability to move - maybe it was him - and stumbled her way to the console in the middle of the room, tried to make sense of the controls and miraculously managed to opened the Citadel’s arms. She could not focus enough to take in the view. Everything was too bright. She tasted blood. Every ache in her body demanded to be known. She realized she could not hear out of her right ear.

“Shepard.”

Adara cringed when she heard Anderson’s voice. They were close, so damn close, but she did not want to die yet. She did not want him to die either. Not until she knew she succeeded. She was too stubborn to go now. Her hands gripped the console tighter as she tried and failed to steady herself, pain shooting up both arms, before releasing and turning to Anderson.

“Stay with me,” she said, voice hoarse yet carrying a rare softness that had not been heard since Thane’s death. “You need to see this. We’re almost there.”

“I already see it. You did it.”

“We did it. Now stay the fuck alive so I don’t get all the glory.” Adara was nearly pleading, moving to sit next to him. She tried to assess the damage, but couldn’t find where all of the blood was coming from. She bit back a scream when she moved her arm the wrong way. “Keep talking, come on. I’m not going back down there and getting swarmed by every fucking reporter in the galaxy alone.” I’m not going back down there at all, she thought. 

“I’m proud of you. You may have not always done things the right way, but you still won.”

“I didn’t win,” Adara said, finally turning her head to watch the fight outside. Alliance ships were being shredded like paper. She wondered if the Normandy was still out there. “I’ve hurt people. I’ve killed innocent people. I’ve put myself before everyone else. I didn’t win. They did. My crew and the Alliance. I was just the one who told them to do it. People like me don’t deserve happy endings, and I don’t have one waiting for me now. Maybe I never did.”

After a moment of silence she risked a glance to her right. 

“Anderson?”


End file.
